


Lacking

by Evil_Little_Dog



Series: Little Things [128]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: Angst, Gen, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-22
Updated: 2013-07-22
Packaged: 2017-12-21 00:24:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/893644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evil_Little_Dog/pseuds/Evil_Little_Dog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary:  Ed's not used to feeling like this.  <br/>Disclaimer:  If you think I own any of this, I've got some beachfront property in Florida to sell you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lacking

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rei382](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rei382/gifts).



Edward’s sullenness lasted two days, after he’d returned from Central City. He slammed through the house, nearly cracked the dishes when asked to put them on the table, scattered the chickens, yelled at Winry, hollered at Alphonse, and stormed around like he had his own particular black cloud over his head. Pinako let him be, except for reminding him to at least be polite – which sent him blasting out of the house as if fueled by a string of expletives. 

Winry and Alphonse found him down by the river, heaving rocks into the water, snarling and cursing with each throw. They didn’t come quiet, but Edward didn’t even turn around to acknowledge them, too busy pitching rocks. Alphonse, still using his crutch, sat down on the gnarled root of an old tree. Winry gathered up rocks, setting them down in easy reach. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Edward snapped, when realization set in. 

“We came to see about you, Ed,” Alphonse said, and Winry nodded. 

“You don’t have to. Go on back to the house.” 

“No.” Winry set another rock down. “Not until you tell us what’s going on, Ed.” 

“It’s none of your business, Winry!” he said, his forearms cording with how tightly he fisted his hands. 

“We’re going to find out sooner or later, Ed, and you know you’ll feel better if you tell us.” Winry offered him a rock. 

Lip curling, he spurned it to grab another one from the ground, shying it out over the river. “Damn it!” 

Alphonse and Winry exchanged a glance. “Ed,” he said, struggling up to his feet, “come on. Tell us what this is about.” 

Edward growled, picking up another rock, the biggest one in the pile. He flung it hard, the resulting splash making ripples in the river that didn’t dissipate before they reached the shore. Throwing his head back, he screamed, “Fuck!” at the top of his lungs. 

Winry winced, but didn’t back away. Alphonse hobbled up to Edward’s other side, so they flanked him, watching his shoulders heave. “Damn it,” he said, tight and cold, “things were supposed to be better.” 

“Better how?” Winry asked when Alphonse didn’t say anything. 

Fisting his hands again, Edward snarled, without any real heat, “Go home.” 

“No.” Alphonse laid his hand on Edward’s shoulder, squeezing it. “Not until you tell us what’s going on.”

Edward gritted his teeth. Winry set her hand on his other shoulder, feeling the tension thrumming through it. “On the train back home,” he said, each word leaving his mouth like a ball bearing dropping into a bowl, “there was a _problem._ Some idiot decided he needed…damn it, he.” 

Winry tightened her grip on his shoulder. Alphonse shot her a glance behind Edward’s back, licking his lips. “He what, Ed?” Winry asked. 

“He tried to rob the train. Five, six, hell, I don’t know how many there were.” Breaking out from under their hands, Edward paced along the river bank, his left foot leaving deeper imprints than his right. “I thought I could stop them, like – like Bald, remember, Al?” He glanced up as he asked the question, but looked away almost immediately, and he never stopped walking. “But I didn’t have my alchemy. I – I forgot, I clapped my hands and nothing - _nothing_ \- happened.” He waved his hand at the bruise on the side of his face, one he’d tried to hide with his bangs, and by turning pointedly away from anyone who got near him. “I got hit.” Edward took a deep breath. “Nearly beaten, but Teacher’s training saved my ass.” 

Alphonse gripped his crutch so tightly, his knuckles were white. “Brother,” he said plaintively. 

“Didn’t keep those assholes from hurting a kid!” Edward leaped up the bank and slammed his fist into the tree trunk. 

Winry swallowed hard, looking toward Alphonse. Dismay flooded his face, but he hobbled after his brother. “Ed, you did your best, didn’t you?”

“But I couldn’t keep those bastards from breaking that kid’s arm!” 

And there was nothing either of them could say to that.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Prompt:** Fullmetal Alchemist, Edward, (post FMAB) he hears about this horrible case and feels awful that he's useless.


End file.
